


Yuuri!!! On Ice Oneshots

by Hoziest



Series: Oneshots [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Agnostic Viktor Nikiforov, Alpha Lilia Baranovskaya, Alpha Mila Babicheva, Alpha Otabek Altin, Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha Yakov Feltsman, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Atheist Lee Seung-gil, Autistic Character, Autistic Katsuki Yuuri, Autistic Yuri Plisetsky, Ballet Dancer Katsuki Yuuri, Beta Georgi Popovich, Buddhism, Buddhist Phichit Chulanont, Bulimia, Christian Leo de la Iglesia, Christophe Giacometti is a Good Friend, Comfort No Hurt, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Confucianist Katsuki Yuuri, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Eating Disorders, Everyone is Supportive, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Georgi Popovich Has Dependent Personality Disorder, He won't admit it though, Hurt/Comfort, Islam, Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov are Yuri Plisetsky's Parents, Long-Haired Yuri Plisetsky, M/M, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Mila Babicheva Has ADHD, Muslim Otabek Altin, Non-Binary Yuri Plisetsky, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Omega Sara Crispino, Omega Verse, Omega Yuri Plisetsky, Other, Pack Dynamics, Parental Victor Nikiforov, Parental Yakov Feltsman, Phichit Chulanont Is a Good Friend, Pre-Canon, Protective Otabek Altin, Recovery, Religion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Self-Harm, Soft Lilia Baranovskaya, Suicide Attempt, Supportive Leo de la Iglesia, Supportive Otabek Altin, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, Supportive Yuri Plisetsky, Taoist Ji Guang Hong, Team Russia, Team Russia Is A Family, Victor Nikiforov Being Victor Nikiforov, Victor Nikiforov Has ADHD, Wicca, Wiccan Yuri Plisetsky, Witch Yuri Plisetsky, Witchcraft, Yuri Plisetsky Needs a Hug, omega drop, omegadrop, parental katsuki yuuri, why isnt that a tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26430877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoziest/pseuds/Hoziest
Summary: All of my oneshots for Yuuri!!! On Ice, featuring lots of gays, family dynamics, and general bullshittry.
Relationships: Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri & Okukawa Minako, Katsuki Yuuri & Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Lilia Baranovskaya & Katsuki Yuuri, Lilia Baranovskaya & Yakov Feltsman, Mila Babicheva & Victor Nikiforov & Yuri Plisetsky & Georgi Popovich, Mila Babicheva & Yakov Feltsman, Mila Babicheva & Yuri Plisetsky, Mila Babicheva/Sara Crispino, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Phichit Chulanont & Celestino Cialdini & Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov & Yuri Plisetsky, Yakov Feltsman & Georgi Popovich, Yakov Feltsman & Victor Nikiforov, Yakov Feltsman & Yuri Plisetsky
Series: Oneshots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011585
Kudos: 107





	1. Lay On Me (Yes, Like A Cat) - Familial YuuriYuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: None

Yuri wanted to scream.

Him, Katsudon, and the old man were at World's, but all of the coaches decided to go out so he was alone in the hotel room with the Piggy. He was surely the easiest of the two to tolerate, and after knowing him for 3 years their dynamic was a lot different, and he saw his rinkmate and coach as father figures (though he would never admit it) (they knew anyways, they always knew), that wasn't the problem. The problem was the restlessness he felt under his skin.

It had been present since he had finished practice earlier, a need to move, to stim, even when he was already doing so. The familiar feeling of understimulation, and like usual, he couldn't fix it himself.

He usually had his grandfather and Potya help him, Nikolai doing activities like yoga with him to provide movement and pressure, or taking him to the skating rink. Potya, laid on him, providing DPT. As of recent, Otabek helped too, as he could do what both Nikolai and Potya did, as well as provide... other forms of stimulation. But none of them were here. Otabek hadn't made Worlds, and grandpa and Potya were watching from home.

He'd tried to get through this himself before, in Juniors before he had Mila to help him at competitions (the low practice days before competing were always when he was most prone to it), but it was hard and became worse as he grew and could no longer find things in hotel rooms that could help.

Yuuri came back from getting ice to find Yuri under his weighted blanket, tucking the sides under him to try and press more into his body. He was rocking in wide circles, and chewing on the tag of the weighted stuffie he had in his lap. "Uh, do you want help with something?"

Yuri jumped a little, not having heard him come in, opening his mouth and letting the tag drop as he watched the Japanese man with wide eyes. 16 year old Yuri would have said no immediately, ashamed at having been seen like this. But he was better now. He embraced his autistic identity more, and trusted the Katsudon much more. Plus, Yuuri would surely know how to help, being autistic himself. He nodded a bit, humming before pushing the words out of his mouth.

"'M understimulated." Nothing else needed to be said, this wasn't the first time Yuuri had helped him out (though Viktor wasn't there this time), so he went behind the younger Russian and wrapped his arms around, squeezing so tightly he was borderline worried he'd hurt the blond (though knowing his high pain tolerance, especially when he was understimulated, that thought was quickly banished). They sat there for a few minutes, before Yuri reached over and turned on his Russian Punk playlist, putting the (now damp) tag back in his mouth.

And so Viktor came back to see his husband laying across his son (loath as said boy was to admit it), both of them watching the random channel on the hotel TV, and moved to spoon his beloved to join them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see a lot of fics about overstimulation with autism, but never any about understimulation, so I decided to write my own


	2. Kids Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the skaters and coaches go out to a bar before the Four Continents, Mila, Yuri, and the other underage skaters are left free reign in their hotel rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Food mention  
> Takes place when Yuri Plisetsky is in his last year of Juniors, and Mila Babicheva is 17.

It was 4 continents, and Yuri Plisetsky was in his last year of Juniors. All of Team Russia had qualified for the events taking place the next few days, however most skaters and coaches had gone to a bar to celebrate, leaving just Mila, Yuri, and the other underage skaters at the hotel. What happens when you leave an autistic teen and an ADHD teen alone in a hotel room, when both of them are professional athletes, who share a sibling like bond, and are also the most rebellious of the rink?

Well, not complete chaos, but close.

"Yuri! Come on, come on, come on, lets go! Yakov said we can get food downstairs and I'm hungry!" Despite being the eldest, when it came to the hyperactive redhead you almost couldn't tell.

Almost.

"Hag! Wait a goddamn minute, I'm not fucking done!" The smaller blond shouted from (Viktor and Georgi's) bed, reading through his latest edition of his current favorite skating magazine. Skating had been his special interest for as long as he could remember, and the way this particular magazine was written was especially pleasing to him. His grandfather, Nikolai, had quickly bought him a subscription, and the newest had come just before they got on their flight.

Mila impatiently bounced around on the pull out couch she and Yuri shared, knowing he wouldn't be moving until he had read it all and that he would punch her if she tried to nag him again (not that she wouldn't do the same if he interrupted her while she was sketching or painting). He was nearly done though, and finished within the next ten minutes, the two of them racing to the elevator to push the button (Mila won, with her longer legs, though Yuri had to stop her from pushing more buttons inside. Mila really liked buttons). 

They arrived at the small buffet area on the ground floor, nearly empty save for one of the other women's competitors. Mila flit around, having trouble choosing what to eat and, since Yakov wasn't there to stop her ending up with nearly one of everything. Yuuri, who had a much smaller palate, chose just a few things (mainly consisting of bread, some pieces of fruit, a hard boiled egg, and some cookies), also taking advantage of Yakov not being there to force him to eat healthier (not that he really could with the selection the hotel offered, the coach was always conscious of his skaters' needs and wouldn't force Yuri to eat anything he couldn't. He surely would've disproved of the soda though).

They found a table with two chairs and dug in, making jabs at each other and talking (gossipping) about their competitors and teammates. Mila always ate very fast, while Yuri was quite the opposite (one reason Yakov found it easier to order takeout instead of going to a restaurant, along with how easily recognizable they all were, and Viktor's dramatics. The two preferred it anyways, they were much too squirmy for any restaurant their coach would take them to anyways), so they finished at around the same time considering the difference in their portion sizes. They then raced back to the elevator, Yuri winning and proceeding to press the same button over and over (ok, maybe Mila wasn't the only one who really liked buttons, sue him, they felt nice to push).

Upon getting back to the room, they set up the pull out couch and turned on the TV before getting ready for bed. They laid down, entangled in each other (Mila was just about the only person Yuri would cuddle, starting because of the sensory overloads they had helped each other through and the fact that they usually shared beds when the whole team went to events. Yakov did not trust any of them to watch the others, so he always got a single room that all of them could sleep in. Slightly difficult with two men as gangly as Georgi and Viktor, but never awkward considering they all saw each other as family, loath as some were to admit it) and with both of their weighted blankets over them. 

The older men came back to a familiar sight, the two still watching Cartoon Network, multiple blankets piled over them and surrounded with stim toys. Viktor picked up a fidget cube himself as he passed, all of them (except for Yakov, who was checking all scheduling and putting it into a format that his four neurodivergent skaters could all understand and follow easily) falling asleep to the pleasing visuals of the TV. 

When the coach finished, he turned off the show, moving the stim toys surrounding his two youngest so they didn't roll on them in the night, and got into his own bed, ready for the hectic event that would be doing Worlds.

He wouldn't exchange it for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watching cartoon network is a big neurodivergent mood, and I had to put that on my favorite team. I love team Russia a lot and there will for sure be plenty more stories with them. I mentioned all the skaters were nd, so if you were wondering, in this story (and most of my works), Yuri Plisetsky is autistic, Mila Babicheva and Viktor Nikiforov have ADHD, and Georgi Popovich has Dependent Personality Disorder. I don't know much about how the Four Continents works so the technical details might be wrong, but all neurodivergent traits are based off me, my nd friends, and/or research. They may not apply to everyone because everyone is different.


	3. Someone Give Yakov A Medal. Or Vodka - Familial Team Russia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Russia goes to Europeans, chaos ensues.  
> I messed with the timeline a bit, so its Yuri's debut year but Viktor hasn't met Yuuri yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: panic attacks, meltdowns, sensory overloads

It was the day of the Free Skate for Europeans, and Yakov had never been so glad for a competition to end.

He'd done competitions with all four of his students, before, but this was the first International one when his youngest skater, Yuri Plisetsky, was in Seniors. It was held in Moscow, at least, so they didn't have to travel very far, but that didn't mean it was easy.

The trip had a rocky start. The team had all spent the night in the same hotel, to get to the airport on time, and first think in the morning Georgi had a panic attack trying to decide what cereal to have. Yakov and the rest of the team were trying to help him cope better with his Dependent Personality Disorder, but on top of the stress of international competition, making the decision by himself was too much. Then Mila had a sensory overload going through security, after which she refused to let go of her coach's hand (luckily the St. Petersburg airport was pretty empty, because an 18 year old holding hands with a 70 year old got some looks, especially when both were famous in the athletic world). Viktor had almost gotten lost at the airport, getting distracted by a dog walking nearby (he knew he couldn't pet it, it was a service dog, but that didn't stop him from staring and muttering to himself various facts about the breed. Of the things Yakov never thought he would need to be so aware of as a coach, special interests made the top of the list), and Yuri had a shutdown as the flight took off (he hated flying but he never complained about it, knowing it was unavoidable), becoming almost completely unresponsive until the plane was just about to land, and going back into that state as it did. Finally, as they entered the hotel, Viktor had his own meltdown about the way the bed was set up. Usually the man ran with spontaneity, but his sleeping arrangements were the biggest exception to that.

Less than 6 hours and the day was filled with chaos, luckily for Yakov this hadn't been his first time going through this (though usually it didn't all happen so fast, save for that one time all of his skaters snapped _at the same time_. That was fun). He purposely made sure they arrived 2 days in advance, so he didn't have to worry about the four taking the rest of the day to relax.

The competition passed much the same as it usually did, the four children (maybe legally they were all adults, but that didn't stop him from referring to them as children) running primarily on the special type of adrenaline that came with the first international comp of the year. It was the last days that were usually the most disorganized and unexpected, and this would be no different.

After the medal ceremony, awards, and parties, the oldest adult herded his pupils back to the room. All four, predictably, tried to collapse into bed immediately, leaving the balding man with the job to convince Yuri and Georgi, who--despite their grumbling-- would've just been left anxious and upset if their routine was disrupted. He then had to talk his two more chaotic skaters into at least changing out of the clothes they wore to the after-party, which took significantly longer and a hint of bribery to get results from. Finally, his (children) students were in bed and he could go to sleep himself, priding himself on the foresight to have booked an extra day after to let them all rest and relax.

And rest and relax they did. Viktor, as always, was first to wake, but he went to Christophe Giacometti's room soon after and stayed through the night. Yuri woke next, but he just got ready and sat on the balcony in the hammock swing (they always chose this hotel when they stayed in Moscow, and the hammock swing was part of the reason why, because Yuri could easily sit in it for hours) and listened to music, only stopping when Mila woke and they both rambled about a special interest they shared (a particular book series). Yakov woke next, and he was more than content to drink his coffee, read his book, and plan for the next competition for the entire day. As usual, Georgi woke last, completing his own routine and sitting to binge watch a show playing on the hotel TV (occasionally checking on Yakov to make sure he hadn't left and wasn't annoyed with his chosen activity, to which the man grunted in familiar reassurance). The day was peaceful, all of the other competitors had left that morning (save for Chris, who was taking some time to spend in Moscow. Why, no one--except perhaps Viktor--had a clue), and was the picture perfect definition of "relaxed."

This close after a competition, they all knew that was the calm before the storm.

So it wasn't much surprising when Viktor had a meltdown not long after he came into the hotel the next morning. Long periods of being in competition tended to leave him struggling to communicate (he was verbal, Yuri was the only of Yakov's skaters who struggled with periods of being unable to speak, but he couldn't put words in the order to make his sentences make sense), and he easily got frustrated when no one could understand what he was saying. Luckily Mila and Yuri had stayed out on the balcony, as the two youngest easily got distressed seeing Viktor (or anyone, really) in such a period of distress (Georgi sometimes struggled with it too, but he had been at the rink since before the other man, so normally he was fine as long as someone else was there to help him calm the other man).

They were surprisingly smooth sailing until they arrived at the airport, which was much louder than the St. Petersburg one, leading Yuri to have a meltdown himself. Not only that, but the straw that broke the camels back was Georgi laying his arm across the younger, so while Yakov helped Yuri calm down and destress as much as possible, Mila and Viktor assured the taller man that he wasn't at fault. It worked to a degree, though Yuri then refused to be more than a pace from Mila (the two had gotten close back when they were both still in Juniors, and quickly became anchors for each other) and Georgi avoided the blond like the plague, in fear of setting him off again.

The flight back entailed three more meltdowns (a Senior debut is tough for anyone, much less an autistic 15 year old expected to beat out the 5 time world champion), two panic attacks, and a desperate call to Nikolai Plisetsky when his grandson became unconsolable. It was rough, just as any other event was, and it was nowhere near the best post-comp they had (though it wasn't the worst, Yakov made a note to himself to one again thank Chris for talking Viktor into getting a therapist), but there were upsides.

Seeing Viktor and Georgi's proud smile as Yuri medalled, seeing the young boy and Mila jumping, flapping, and stimming around their hotel room after the Short Program, hearing the redhead go on about how great of a coach he was when one of her competitors remarked how strict he was (he didn't have much of an ego, but he tried damn hard so that his skaters, the four who have been told since _childhood_ that they'll never make it, they're too weird, can't focus enough, he made sure _his_ skaters could excel without conforming themselves, and to know that it was well received that even the fiery girl would boast about how caring he was made his heart swell), all highlights of the trip. Even in the hard moments, Mila held _his_ hand for comfort on the first day of travel, Georgi looked back for approval when he decided which seat he would sit in on the plane (in turn, also deciding which seat Yakov would sit in) and _grinned_ when he received a slight nod, Yuri _actively_ seeked him out during his meltdown (he used to only seek out his grandpa, then Mila, but he went to _him_ , an important moment for the two emotionally constipated males), Viktor _let him help make his bed_. All five of them knew, without words, how important all of these moments were.

Yakov may not show it in a way the public would understand, but there was an unspoken agreement at the ring. They were family, and Yakov was the father figure they all needed (well, that part may not be unspoken considering all four skaters had called him "dad" at least once) (not even always on accident either. Goddamnit Nikiforov).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote half of this yesterday, so the first half is just kinda self indulgent while the second half is more of a vent, therefor idk if I went overkill with the "they're all having a shit time" on the way home, but it made me feel better so idc. Also! Please tell me if I've depicted DPD horribly wrong, it's the only condition of the ones listed that I don't have direct first or second hand experience with and I want to be respectful as possible!


	4. Foraging - Otayuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Otabek go foraging in the woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: None  
> I find religion fascinating, and like the idea of the various skaters and their individual cultures, especially the ones from different regions

"Beka, come on! I want to go looking for herbs but we'll completely miss the sunset if you don't hurry!" Yuri shouted, putting on his black combat boots that he normally wore when he was feeling witchy, grabbing his satchel and slinging it over his black lacy dress.

"Patience, Yura, I'm literally coming down the stairs." Otabek said with an exasperated smile, knowing that there was still plenty of time before it went completely dark. Yuri had told him at dinner that he wanted to take a walk that night, and he had agreed to go after he finished his sunset prayer. He tugged on his tennis shoes, knowing the rain would make the ground muddy (Yuri preferred the bike paths as opposed to the paved ones).

They stepped through the back doors, fingers intertwined and heading toward the shortcut they had made to the bike path, not wanting to walk all the way to where the paving starts to get to it. Otabek was staring at the wide brimmed black hat his partner was wearing ("yes, Beka, it's stereotypical, but it's also the aesthetic. What better way to get in the mood than dressing like it?"), the soft blond hair framing the beautiful face, the flowy lace that wrapped around his legs as he sharply turned to avoid a tree. Yuri had been open to the public about his gender (or lack thereof) for three years now, and Otabek loved that he wore dresses out of the house.

He felt his foot sink slightly into the mud as they were spit onto the trail, a clump of white clover (which Yuri put into both of their teas) and black medick (which yuri used for the scratches from Potya, or from trying to get _another_ plant with thorns, without gloves) laying in front of them. Otabek helps him gather a few and put them in his satchel, the two listening to the noises of wildlife and guided by the soft sunlight still out, and the gibbous moon.

After collecting a decent amount, they continued on, Yuri humming a soft tune while his boyfriend swung their hands between them. As they came upon a patch of clovers, Yuri began looking for a four leaved one while Otabek gathered them, knowing his partner would otherwise forget. He stopped when he heard a sudden gasp, and looked up to see the blond dart forward. He leaned back and opened his hands just enough for the Kazakh to see the small toad inside. After a moment of gazing, Yuri lay his palm flat so the reptile could hop off. It sat for a moment, much to the Russian's delight, before jumping back into the underbrush.

They were out for around half an hour more, collecting a variety of herbs and catching two more toads (Otabek swore his partner was a Disney Princess, he could always find and catch the small reptiles, even without looking for anything). They looped around after they hit the dandelion patch, taking the path back to catch anything that had grown along there. When they hit the area where the paths met, where they turned to take their shortcut, Yuri was shivering so Otabek handed him the leather jacket he was wearing, a lot more tolerant to cold due to his bigger build.

"Ah ah, wash your hands, you have toad juices all over them," the older protested as the other went to go to their room. With a snort, Yuri did as he said, brushing his teeth and washing his face as well before heading into their room to exchange the herbs in the fae house on his altar and grab pyjamas. Otabek took the bathroom as the blond did so, so he sat down on the bed and meditated.

The brunet came into their room as his alarm for his nightly prayer went off, so he moved to do so. When he came back, the blond was still meditating so he laid beside him, the smaller soon opening his eyes and falling back into his boyfriend's arms, snuggling into his broad chest and beginning to fall asleep, letting the other turn off the lamp and adjust their duvet.

He loved skating, but he only got moments like this in the offseason, and it made the lack of work worth it to sleep in his boyfriend's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Yuri's witchcraft is largely based off of myself, I am not Muslim so any constructive criticism is appreciated!


	5. Considerate - Familial Team Russia, Familial Team Detroit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all athletes can have the best eating habits, a good coach is one who can help them get the best for themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Food mention, eating disorder, disordered eating  
> Vents because I am #struggling to find things I actually want to eat that my sensory issues will actually LET me, + hc that Yuuri has/had an ED. Takes place the year Yuuri bombs the Grand Prix, but before the actual event.

Being a professional athlete, everyone always assumed that you had the absolute perfect diet and eating habits. In reality, this could be far from the truth. Sometimes, it wasn't even necessarily the wants of the athlete, but their needs.

In short, coaches Celestino Cialdini and Yakov Feltsman tended to struggle getting their skaters a proper diet.

Celestino, or Ciao Ciao, as his students called him, mostly struggled in getting Katsuki Yuuri to eat enough. The man had struggled with bulimia for a large portion of his life. Near the beginning of the season he had faced a pretty tough relapse, when his anxieties and the press got to him, and while he was now back in remission (partially in thanks to Phichit now being roommates with him) he still wasn't in the most stable of headspaces.

"You must finish your meal, Yuuri."

"Sorry, Ciao Ciao, I'm just not hungry."

"You didn't have any lunch! At least eat a protein bar, then."

It was hard, but Yuuri was trying his best and Ciao Ciao was conscious of that, also trying his hardest to help his eldest skater recover without creating more poor eating habits. It helped that Phichit, his youngest pupil and one of Yuuri's closest friends, seemingly was a master at the art of putting food in front of the Japanese man and getting him to eat it, without feeling pressured.

The Thai man presented his own challenges, being vegetarian and usually forgetting to eat enough protein, but any skater, or student, brought new perspective (it helped that Yuuri stress baked, even when he didn't eat it, so he spent time learning new, high-protein vegetarian recipes to help his rinkmate).

*~*

"Yuri, you have to eat more than that!"

"Don't you think I would if I could, old man?"

Yakov had his own fair share of struggles with neurodivergent skaters. Out of his current students, one was autistic, two had ADHD, and the fourth had DPD. He had gotten a pretty good handle on most things (Georgi had been working under him for 2 decades now, and Viktor just less than that) and had learned to easily adapt his system to his younger two, but one thing he wasn't prepared for was young Plisetsky's eating habits.

Mila and Viktor also had sensory issues, but for the most part the grey-haired man was hyposensetive to everything, and the redhead wasn't very particular with food. Yuri, however, was quite the opposite. He could eat pretty much anytime, but it wasn't very well-rounded. In fact, during the more stressful periods you'd be lucky to get him to eat much more than a pirozhki, maybe some egg-and-noodle dish too.

"C'mon, aren't kittens supposed to like fish?"

"Call me that again, hag, and I will cut you with my knife shoes."

"MILA! Back to the ice, your step sequence was sloppy."

The coach was standing along the low wall, the blond next to him eating an apple. Most people thought he was simply a strict, grumpy old man, but his students knew he could be quite the opposite, even if he showed it in peculiar ways.

"Your grandfather is stopping along at lunch break. He says he has a new recipe for you to try." The lean boy raised an eyebrow, clearly not wanting to be forced to try the unexpected sensory input, even if it was made by his grandpa.

"He will be bringing along some beef and potato ones as well, if you really won't eat the new one. Now hurry along, finish up, you're taking up time!" Off to the side, Viktor and Georgi smirked at each other, neither missing how their grouchy coach said "taking up" as opposed to "wasting," fully aware the barely-teenage-boy felt guilty for not being able to eat "right" most times.

Celestino and Yakov's students were forever grateful for them. They were the first real coaches who didn't ridicule Yuri and Yuuri for their eating habits, or Phichit for his "restricted" cultural diet, or Viktor and Mila for their squirminess and inability to stay still, or Georgi for having trouble making decisions. It was unspoken, between them all, that they would be forever grateful.

Unspoken, but shown nonetheless.

*~*

"Phichit put that back! It's not even done!"

"DID YOU JUST GRAB THAT OUT OF A HOT PAN? CHULANONT!"

"Oops, gotta blast."

*~*

"Aw, look at that, I think Yakov loves us!"

"You least of all, Nikiforov."

"That wasn't a denial~"

"You're really going to die this time, Georgi."

"Oi, all of you shut the hell up!"

*~*

Yup, they're a family.


	6. "You're Okay, Hon" - Platonic Viktophe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Viktor faces a tough "loss," Chris is worried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Attempted suicide, self harm, blood, panic  
> Idk I'm in an angst mood today so here's an idea that's been in my mind for awhile. Takes place like, a couple years before canon, so they're in their early 20's

Christophe Giacometti was quickly going from nervous, to all out panicked.

He was finally able to meet up with his closest friend, Viktor Nikiforov, at a competition, after over a year of the two only seeing each other through skype. They planned to hang out tonight, since the comp was over and they both left the next evening. However, he hadn't shown up yet, and he should certainly have finished interviews, as it was dark outside. Chris hadn't even gotten a text warning that he was late, extremely rare for Viktor. He didn't want to jump to the worst case scenario, but it was seeming more and more likely.

He had known about Viktor's depression for a few years now, and also knew his triggers. Unfortunately, multiple of them had been hit tonight. Firstly, he didn't feel as if he'd surprised the audience with his short program, the idea of being predictable making him extremely frustrated. He had placed second, behind the German competitor, and just a few points ahead of Chris. Nowhere near bad, but Viktor was certainly known for his obsessive perfectionism. Then, Yakov had to leave in a hurry after an emergency at their home rink, that no one else was equipped with worry (Chris didn't know exactly what happened, but he suspected it had to do with one of the grey-haired man's rinkmates), so Viktor was beside himself with worry and also was without his coach (Chris' offered to help him out if needed, which he gratefully accepted, but Yakov was like a father to the skater, knew the man better than almost anyone else). The free skate wasn't any better, Viktor ended up overthinking to the point of only getting a few hours of sleep, and he second guessed himself _constantly_ on the ice. Because of this trip up, his placing dropped much more, and he ended up barely hanging onto fifth place. That, combined with the press' questions about his worse-than-usual skating, caused his perfectionism to get even worse, in turn affecting his depression as well.

Chris decided that, for both his and his coach's peace of mind, he'd go to his friend's hotel room, despite their agreement to meet at his. He knocked on the door, only to get no answer, not even a faint grunt. After another responseless knock, he realized the door wasn't closed properly. He slammed it open, running through the room and coming out empty handed. Viktor's antidepressants were still in their spot, luckily, but...

But his razor was bloody.

 _Shit shit shit shit shit, please be there please still be there_ Chris thought desperately as he sprinted to the stairs, deciding the elevator would take too long. There wasn't enough blood in the bathroom for him to worry about him bleeding out, but if he wasn't in his room, and hadn't texted the blond, there was only one place he would be (well, two, but the younger man prayed he wasn't in the hospital already. He doubted it anyways, Yakov would've been called, and would've called him).

As he suspected, Viktor was on the roof.

Chris accidentally slammed the door open, but caught it before it could hit the wall and risk scaring the man standing at the edge.

"Oh, Vitya," he whispered, taking in the dried blood on his friend's sleeves, drying tears on his face, far off look in his eyes.

"It hurts. Chris, why does it hurt?"

"Hey, c'mere honey, let's answer that down over here." Thankfully, Viktor stepped away from the ledge (not before casting another look down), walking over to his best friend and letting himself be engulfed in a hug.

"Ok hon, it's gonna be okay." Viktor started sobbing again, wincing as he wrapped his arms around the taller boy but squeezing tighter nonetheless. "I know your brain is screaming at you, but let's go inside, yeah? You can talk while I clean you up, or we can just watch a movie."

"I failed."

"Oh, honey, you didn't fail. Everyone messes up, there'll be more opportunities. C'mon, I have that one hot chocolate brand you really like."

They trudge back into the warmth of the hotel, thankfully not running into anybody in the elevator. Once they get to Chris' room (separate from his coach's, luckily, because anyone but Chris or Yakov seeing him right now would not do anything to help his mental state). Viktor sits on the bed and takes off his shirt, well aware of this sadly familiar routine.

Chris grabs a first aid kit and wets a towel, rushing back to his friend and beginning to clean away the extra blood. All of the cuts were pretty shallow, luckily, but there were quite a few. Confirming that his arm was the only thing afflicted, he grabbed the antiseptic and gauze from the kit, wrapping from wrist to elbow. As he got up to put the kit and now-bloody towel back, Viktor spoke up, voice shaking but no longer sounding detached.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, you don't need to be sorry, I understand that it's hard."

"I was almost 4 months clean! Then I had to go and throw a fit and fuck it all up again."

"Vitya, look at me. You say that like you overreacted, which isn't true. It's a hard habit to break, probably one of the hardest. Relapses happen, and you were put under a lot of stress. You don't need to feel guilty."

"I'm going to anyways."

"I know you are, you diva." That, got a small smile out of Viktor, much to Chris' delight. He pulled his friend back into a hug, resting his chin on the shorter's head. "Now, you wanna call Yakov, or do you want me to?"

"I, I can call him. Can you turn on Twilight? And can we cuddle?"

"Of course, who do you think I am! I'll set it up."

Viktor was still staring at the contact on his phone when he came back to the bed. He laid down and brought the older's head to lay on his chest, holding the remote in a small signal that the cheesy comfort movie would _not_ be started until his coach was called. He took a breath and tapped the call button, bringing the phone to his ear. Chris could only hear one side of the conversation, and he wasn't the _most_ fluent in Russian, but he had a pretty good idea what happened.

"Hi Yakov."

"Yeah, I'm ok. Chris found me, we're back at his room."

"I was on, um, the roof. Again."

"Yeah, I attempted."

"He wrapped my arm up."

"No, not anymore."

"Still not the greatest."

"I doubt Chris will let me out of his sight."

"Damn right I won't!" The man in question piped up, prompting a small chuckle from Viktor.

"Yeah, I'll call you again in the morning. Good night, Yakov."

After hanging up, the man rested his head back on his friend's chest, facing the TV to watch Bella have the most _awkward_ first day of school imaginable. With all the excitement of the night, he was mostly asleep about halfway through the movie, so Chris (a bit drowsy himself, though determined not to fall asleep before Viktor) reached to turn it off. He checked to make sure that his injured arm wasn't under something, and as he laid his head back down he heard a small whisper.

"I'm sorry."

"You're okay, hon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk why I've been so into angst lately but I am. Rest assured, I will never write hurt no comfort (I can barely read that shit, much less write it) unless there will be a follow up chapter. Also, please interact with my stories! Kudos are great, and I love reading comments, even just random ones!


	7. Falling For You *Smack* - Viktuuri, Platonic YuuriYuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri isn't very good at taking care of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Poor eating and sleeping habits, fainting, Yuri cusses a lot, food mention  
> Lowkey inspired by [ Adventures in Agape ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8777092/chapters/20119783) by Zadabug98, 10/10 would highly recommend one of my favorite fics. Anyways, AU where Yuuri became a ballet dancer instead of a figure skater, but he is still the Yuuri we know and love. And sometimes want to yell at.

"Do you really have to come with me old man?" 

"Yes, I like to know how you're doing."

"You just have a crush on my teacher!"

"That too."

"Gross!" Yuri complained, as he and Viktor walked to the small ballet studio the blond had been practicing at. Yakov wanted Yuri to get better with movement and expression, and he decided ballet was the best way to do so. He originally wanted him to work with his ex-wife, Lilia Baranovskaya, but she was very busy and another well respected teacher had just moved nearby, so she recommended them.

Okukawa Minako was one of the few ballerinas Lilia respected to the caliber she did. The primas had met a couple of times, so the Japanese woman was delighted to take on someone that Lilia had recommended her to. However, Minako was also very busy, and didn't have the time to teach Yuri herself. She sat in on some of each class, but mostly she let her longest-taught student, Katsuki Yuuri, take over. Katsuki Yuuri, who Viktor had taken quite an obvious liking to.

They walked into the well-furnished and slightly homey studio to see Minako and Yuuri talking in Japanese. They couldn't tell what they were saying, obviously, but Minako looked worried and Yuuri looked off. The past few days the man had looked tired, though he reassured his student (and his student's tag-along) that he was fine, just busy. However, he looked pale today, and his tighter shirt showed that he looked skinnier than normal, concerning for the normally lean man.

"They're here, sensei. I'm fine, may we move onto warm-ups now?" Yuuri switched to heavily accented Russian. The prima sighed, but nodded, sitting in her usual spot at the speaker, Viktor to her left. The Yu(u)ri's moved to stretch, both ridiculously flexible and the oldest two in the room silently wishing they could still move like that (Yuuri may be close in age to Viktor, but full time ballet required much more flexibility than skating, especially in Yuuri's case, while he was a danseur he still could do many things that most danseurs could not, such as moving en pointe).

"May I ask what you were discussing?" The grey haired man was known for speaking his mind, so Minako wasn't surprised by this question.

"I just worry he's overworking himself. I've known Yuuri since he was born, I can read through his facades. He insists he's okay, and I want to believe it, but his family is known for being workaholics. His mother has tried to pull the same shit on me multiple times, and this isn't the first time he's attempted to either."

"If it'll calm your worries, I can keep an eye on him after you leave."

"You aren't as discreet as you think, I know you'd be watching him anyways," she said with a smirk, eliciting a blush from the other, "but thank you. I have something I really need to attend to, it shouldn't take long but I'll feel much better knowing it's not just the two of them. Yurio's a good boy, but I don't think he knows much about first aid. I'll be in my office if you need me." She leaves just as they finish warmups, giving Yuuri a look that Viktor can only imagine he got plenty of as a young child.

The danseurs started with a routine that Yuri had been working on, Yuuri joining him for the second half as he wasn't to confident with it. However, as the teacher went into the grand jeté he landed harshly, therefor having his stance messed up for the pirouette. Yuri didn't seem to notice, but Viktor certainly did. He seemed to get back to himself as the dance moved on, but when the Japanese man's knees buckled at the next plié Viktor had the sudden urge to stand up.

It was lucky he did, for Yuuri didn't make it through the following fouetté without passing out. Yuri seemingly noticed as well, as he never entered his own turn, and stood stalk still as as his teacher fell and Viktor darted forward. Luckily they had moved close to the speaker, so he was able to catch the younger man before he hit the floor.

"Go get Minako, she's in her office," Viktor told the youngest as he set Yuuri the rest of the way down and checked his pulse (which was luckily stable). He ran out, and came back not even a minute later with the woman in tow.

"I fucking knew it you little shit, 'I'm fine' my ass, if we were in Hasetsu I'd..." she drifted off into her native tongue, seemingly not overly worried. After a few more minutes, likely filled with Japanese cussing, she took a breath and directed herself to the other men.

"He's fine."

"Shouldn't the fucking Katsudon have woken the hell up by now?!" Yuri exclaimed, clearly worried (in a few short months he had begun to see Yuuri as a father figure of sorts, something rare for the closed off blond and so far the familial treatment had only extended to his rinkmates and coach, whom he'd known for many years, and his grandfather, and now the Japanese danseur).

"He's been overworking and I doubt he's slept as much as he should, if he has at all. I'll take him to the lounge to rest, and make him some food, Lord knows the last time he ate something substantial, Hiroko's going to kill me... oh, I'm taking him to the lounge, you two are free to come as well. It's nearing lunch and you are the last student for the day anyways."

Viktor offered to carry the younger man (Minako was 50 after all, and while lean Yuuri was well built from years of athletics), and the prima went off to the small private kitchen to heat up some ramen ("none of that instant shit, I don't know how Yuuri ate it in college in the States it's horrible,").

Yuri had been in the lounge a few times before, for meditation or just a break after a long practice, but Viktor never had. He set the Japanese man on the couch, his young rinkmate taking the chair to its left and leaving him with the one to the right.

Minako was still in the kitchen when Yuuri woke up, talking on the phone ("Mari you won't believe what you're brother did this time, why are you the only Katsuki that doesn't work themselves half to death, not that you're all that much better don't get cocky now-").

"Oi, what the fuck was that! You go on and on about taking care of my damn self, Minako says you haven't slept or eaten, what the shit is up with that! And then you pass out? What the hell Yuuri!"

Said man reaches out to ruffle the blond's hair, knowing full well that he was speaking from anxiety and not anger. "I know, quite hypocritical of me. I've been working so hard on this new routine I'm doing, I keep losing track of time."

"Well you should fix that now, you could've seriously hurt yourself," Viktor piped up, equally as worried for the man he had fallen hopelessly for.

"Speaking of, I remember passing out, but it doesn't feel like I fell."

"The old man fucking caught you so you didn't hurt your goddamn self you idiot shit."

Yuuri snorted at the language, ruffling Yuri's hair again and turning to the older man. "Thank you. You're right, I could've gotten hurt, I'll get better at that now. Especially since Minako-sensei has probably entered mother hen mode."

"Damn straight! Now eat up, you're way too skinny," she yelled as she burst in, four bowls of noodles on the tray she was holding.

The four tucked in, and Minako ordered Yuuri to stay in the lounge as she finished Yuri's lesson. Viktor opted to stay with him (Yuuri wasn't the best at Russian slang, but he was fairly certain he heard Yuri mutter something along the lines of "gay shit"), claiming he wanted to "make sure he was 100% recovered" since Yuri didn't need him with him.

"Thanks again for catching me," Yuuri whispered bashfully, looking through thick eyelashes at the man he had been harboring affections for for awhile now.

"It really wasn't a problem, I'm just glad you're safe."

"I almost wish I was conscious, able to feel being held in your arms." Oops, that was NOT supposed to slip out of his mouth. Stupid sleep deprivation.

"Oh? I guess you could say you fell for me." His comment was met with a slap, light but flat palmed so while it didn't hurt, it made a loud noise. He could hear Minako and Yuri laughing, now done with their lesson. However, he stopped paying attention when the previously assaulted spot on his cheek was kissed by the very same man.

"I don't have work tomorrow. Pick me up whenever's convenient, you have my number."

Yuri was gagging, Minako squealing and Yuuri blushing heavily despite his previously flirty words, whining at his sensei in Japanese.

And that story was told at Viktor and Yuuri's wedding two years later, by Viktor's best man, Yuri Plisetsky ("I thought you were supposed to tell embarrassing stories about Viktor!" "Well, since Yurio told that about Yuuri it's my duty, as Yuuri's maid of honor, to tell all of you about the time Viktor called me at midnight once when he nearly burned his kitchen down trying to make katsudon!" "Mariiiiiii! I told you that in confidence!").

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this may be my longest oneshot so far, and surprisingly it's not hurt/comfort. Well, not really.


	8. Thanks, Katsudon - Platonic YuuriYuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No longer running on spite and anger, post GPF Yuri Plisetsky has a not so funky fresh time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Sensory overload, meltdowns, self injurious behavior  
> Originally this was gonna be a flashback in another oneshot (which I'll start writing immediately after this) but while mentally plotting out how I wanted it to go I realized that I absolutely would not stop writing after the part referenced and should just make a whole one for it, so here's this.

Yuri practically sprinted away from the reporters, not letting Yakov know where he was going and ignoring the looks from the other skaters.

This year was his second Grand Prix Final, and he had just won second, behind the Piggy (Viktor won fourth, impressive after a year off). He wasn't angry about that, he'd come far in the year since the last Final and recognized that he was still exceeding expectations, and he'd lost to the other Yuuri by less than a point. He wasn't angry, but that was part of the problem.

During his debut, he ran largely on spite. He let his anger push him so he could ignore some of the stress, the overwhelming attention, and other things. He didn't have that now, and the bright lights and loud music and cheering and the normally welcome feeling of his free skate costume and the ever hated one of hair gel and-

Needless to say, he was overstimulated. No matter how accommodating his coach was, Yakov couldn't override decisions made by the ISF, and couldn't ward off reporters (in fact, he was doing all he could to take the questions that would've been directed at Yuri). So, the blond ran, ran to the area only competitors and their coaches were permitted to enter, finding the first bathroom he could (empty, with the press being here and another one closer to the lobby that most other skaters used). He immediately crouched down, stripping the top of his body suit off, exposed to the air with only an undershirt to cover his torso and the now-loose fabric bunching around his waist. Next, he pulled the ponytail out of his long hair, raking his fingers through it to try and get rid of the uncomfortable hair gel, letting it hang over his eyes to block some of the light. 

With his costume as comfortable as he could make it in his state, he pushed himself under the sinks until his back hit the wall, hiding away from all of the noise he could still faintly hear and wrapping his arms around his head, elbows sticking out like horns against the light they were protecting his eyes from. He fuzzily figured out that he was breathing heavily, hyperventilating, and that his hands were pulling his hair hard enough to hurt. A metallic tang filled his mouth, and he realized that his teeth had sunk deep into his lower lip, breaking skin. He couldn't bear to stop, felt out of control of his own actions and without enough energy to take the reins back from whatever stole them from him. He heard the vent turn on and the cold caused goosebumps to raise on his skin; he miserably wished that he had his Team Russia jacket instead of leaving it with Lilia.

The door opened and he whimpered, cursing his rotten luck that someone just had to decide to trek all the way here and would see him like this, vulnerable and curled up half naked under the sinks in a _public bathroom_. How humiliating.

"Yuri!" There was a yell (well, it sounded like it, it was probably just an exclamation), it sounded like someone was looking for him. He saw the legs on the other side of the sink, tall, definitely taller than him, and the bottom of another jacket. A jacket, that said "JAPAN" on it.

Yuuri Katsuki. Loath to admit it, he was relieved. No one had ever said it, but he knew that the gold medalist was like him. He saw it in the way he moved around, always tapping his fingers or pulling on the hem of his shirt or, since last year, twisting his ring. He saw it in the way he only ate a few things, always similar in texture and always prepared a certain way, whether he was in Japan or Russia or anywhere else. He saw it in the way he fumbled to distinguish sarcasm and the like, that the blond himself could only pick up on when it was Mila or Georgi or someone like that, because he knew their tells for it.

It wasn't this that made him let out a small sob at the noise, but it was that he didn't hide away or try to cover it up as the man walked over and crouched in front of the sinks to see Yuri. He didn't say anything, didn't comment on the tears or his state of undress or overall appearance that must've looked like shit. Instead, he just sat, one leg over the other, turning on some instrumental music and laying against the wall. 

"You don't have to talk, or even come out from there. You can even tell me to leave, if you want, I can find somewhere else to unwind. But if you do want to talk, I'm here, whenever you're ready."

The sobs had turned to sniffles when there was a knock on the door heard over the soft music playing from the older's phone. He stood, casting a reassuring look at the other, and went to unlock the door (he must've locked it when he heard Yuri crying). Some grey dress pants and nice black shoes could be seen, trademark of Viktor's coaching (even when he was competing as well), but he just brought Yuuri into a tight hug, and moved to kneel in front of the sink.

Yuri didn't want to talk to the man; he used to be a big comfort but after he left it brought back Yuri's fear of abandonment, and it hadn't been fixed yet (he's pretty sure the hag had told him to give him space until he was more warmed up to the pig, if her text messages were any indication) (yes, he stole Mila's phone and read her messages. He was bored, sue him). But instead of speaking up, the grey haired man placed a set of headphones and pair of sunglasses, the backup ones Lilia brought in her bag, in front of him. Easily within his reach, but not close enough that he would have to get into the other's personal space. With that, Viktor stood up, kissed his husband on the forehead, and left with a whisper that sounded an awful lot like "I'll take care of the reporters."

The young blond reached out, placing on the sunglasses (sighing with relief as they blocked out the fluorescent lights) and crawling out from his spot, leaving the headphones for now. He sat next to the Japanese man, who was back against the wall, and sighed. He opened his mouth a few times, want for comfort pushing his pride to the backseat, and Yuuri started the conversation for him, looking over with soft warmth and understanding in his eyes and opening his arms in an invitation.

"Being 16 and autistic is hard, isn't it?"

And with that, Yuri let out a wail and dove into his role model's (a fascination that began at a young age and turned to a want for friendship, despite the jealousy at him making Viktor go away) affections, who just rubbed his back, soothing with gentle shushes and reassurances. The Japanese man gently rocked the two back and forth, using the same methods his sister used to to help him through meltdowns.

They sat like that for about 15 minutes, Yuri burying his head in Yuuri's shoulder and letting himself loose like he very rarely did around even his teammates. The only people who had seen him like this, in fact, were Mila, Yakov, and his grandpa, and he'd known the first two since before his diagnosis. It wasn't hard, though, he felt safe in the other man's arms, understood and _loved_. He had the Team Japan jacket on, Yuuri had given it to him when he noticed the shivering, and it was comforting. He eventually pulled back, though; they were still in a public restroom at the venue for an international competition.

"What," his voice got caught and he cleared it, though it was still raspy, "what about the reporters?"

"Viktor, Yakov, and Lilia took care of them all. It's getting late, I doubt there's many left and the three are probably just sitting in the lobby." Yuuri's voice was still smooth and soothing, like a mother to her child (really, he might as well have been).

"Sorry, for... keeping you or whatever, I guess."

"You never have to be sorry." His voice, still gentle, was firmer, as was his grip on the Russian leaning into him. "It's hard for anyone to be an international athlete, much less a teenager, and an _autistic_ one at that. I wasn't too well known at your age, but I've been in that position many times. Besides, I needed a break too."

They sat for maybe 5 more minutes, before the blond wordlessly stood up and moved for the door. Yuuri stopped him, tying the sleeves of the costume so they sat around Yuri's waist and zipping his own jacket over the boy, letting him keep some modesty. They moved together to the lobby, meeting their coaches, and the group of 5 left for the hotel together. There were no questions, just a quick once over to check both of their well-beings (Lilia handed him a tissue to wipe off the blood drying on his chin) and a nod to go back and relax.

Yuri couldn't remember ever feeling so loved.


	9. Am I Ready? Maybe - Yuri Plisetsky Centric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri is bitchy out of fear, Otabek comes to the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: None  
> This references my previous oneshot! As in, literally the one right before this one, I don't know why you wouldn't have read it, but if you haven't go do so! (Unless you need a summary because of the trigger warnings, in which case just comment so!)

Yuri knew he was being a bitch. He was at a "family dinner" with Yuuri and Viktor, who had adopted parental roles quickly after his meltdown at last year's GPF, and Otabek, who he began dating soon after beginning rehearsal for last year's exhibition skate (a stunt that no one will ever let him live down, but Welcome To The Madness was fun so he didn't care), and everyone was talking about things that had happened that week. How Yuuri was thinking of opening a ballet studio to work with Viktor's ice rink (which reminded Yuri of Lilia and Yakov, a little to similar in respects sometimes) and Otabek's immigration forms finally went through and Mila had finished moving to Italy. The younger Russian was happy for them all, truly, and nowadays he could be much better at showing it than he used to be, but the anxiety gnawing at him over his own announcement, and it was making him revert back to the cruel and cutting words.

"Yuri, is something up?" Yuuri asked, a bit annoyed at the newfound rudeness in his pseudo-son.

"Nothing's fucking wrong, just go on about whatever stupid shit you were earlier."

"Are you sure? Because this behavior is new. You can talk about whatever, you know."

"Oh, yes, lets do a share circle and talk about our feelings!" The Japanese man was as bad at picking up on sarcasm as he was, but he was easily able to tell with it practically dripping from Yuri's lips. "What is this, fucking kindergarten?"

Otabek looked confused and concerned, trying to figure out what was wrong with the blond Russian and wondering how he hadn't picked up on it, while Yuuri kept trying to get to the bottom of this. The Kazakh noticed the nervous twitching of Yuri's fingers and legs, but couldn't guess why, and that made him feel shitty that he couldn't help.

"You're acting like your 16 again Yuri, like the little boy who couldn't handle criticism and not the man you've grown into."

That seemingly made Yuri angrier, and Otabek's eyes lit up in recognition, but he couldn't get a word out before the blond spoke up again. "Oh wow, I'm a _little boy_ again, how wonderful." His voice was raising in volume, dripping with disgust.

"Can you stop being snarky and sarcastic for _one minute_?!" Viktor spoke up, fed up with the younger's behavior.

"If I do I'll probably break down and cry, so no!" There was a look of horror on Yuri's face as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but there was no way to take them back. Otabek took the blond's hand over the table, speaking as Viktor and Yuuri stared in shock.

"Hey, is this about what we talked about last night? About what you want to tell them?" His voice was uncharacteristically soft, rubbing circles into the smaller, pale hand in his. Yuri nodded, eyes downcast and tears welling up in them.

"Yuri? What did you want to tell us?" Viktor asked, voice also calmer than normal as he learned why the harsh words were coming from the blond's mouth.

Yuri's mouth felt dry, and Otabek kissed the knuckles of the other handin reassurance as a look of fear was directed at him. "It's okay baby, nothing will go wrong, I promise."

Yuri moved to Otabek's lap, seeking comfort and now sitting across from Viktor, the reason for most of the anxieties, as illogical as they probably were. Otabek wrapped strong arms around a thin waist, squeezing in comfort, and Yuri let the words tumble out before fear could take over.

"I'm nonbinary. I- I'd like to be addressed with they/them pronouns from now on." They felt tears fall from the stress, and Otabek hugged them tighter, pressing a kiss to their shoulder.

"Oh Yuri, I'm sorry that you'd _ever_ feel scared to tell us that," Yuuri soothed, understanding much more the anxieties that caused them to spit such harsh words. Viktor nodded, reaching to take Yuri's free hand and looking them in the eye (well, as close as they were comfortable looking _anyone_ in the eye).

"I am so, _so_ proud of you for coming out to us."

They let out a sob of relief, letting their boyfriend take hold of the conversation as they curled into his chest. "They told me a few months ago, they were worried because they look up to you so much, no matter how much I told them you wouldn't have bad reactions. It isn't your fault, I'm sure you already know about Yura's fear of abandonment."

"Does anybody else know?"

"Nikolai, and I think Mila does, Sara as well then, but they plan to make an announcement on social media later this week for National Non-Binary People's Day to tell everyone else. I'm pretty sure Lilia already suspects though, based on some of what Yuri's told me about their lessons."

Yuri sat up after that, taking deep breaths and still leaning into the comfort of their boyfriend. "Sorry for being a bitch. I shouldn't have done that, I was just... nervous. As all hell."

And so the rest of the night was filled with questions and reassurances and it was another of those times. Those times where Yuri thought they couldn't feel anymore loved than they already did, and when they were proved wrong they smiled until their face hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use he/him pronouns for Yuri until they come out for purpose of the narrative, so they kind of push it down until they tell Viktuuri and then they embrace themself.


	10. Respected - Yuuri Katsuki Centric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri knew that Yuri had a ballet teacher, and a well known one. But was no one going to tell him that that teacher was _Lilia Baranovskaya_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: None  
> When I tell you I live for the possible dynamics between Yuuri and Lilia, I mean I _live_ for it. I need to write them, and so I shall.

"You are a danseur," A voice spoke behind him, firm and without question and startling Yuuri away from analyzing Viktor's skating. He turned and saw Yurio's ballet teacher, he knew that. What he _didn't_ know was **who** Yurio's ballet teacher was (he'd been to busy focusing on the skater himself and hadn't really seen the woman close enough to be able to tell).

"Madam Baranovskaya!" He yelped, bowing down in respect at one of his idols.

"You have a history in ballet, yes? Your techniques and the way you carry yourself, all point more toward so than purely skating."

"Yes, madam, I trained in ballet under Okukawa Minako from a young age, she was the one who introduced me to skating. I am not as much an active dancer, but I do minor routines and practices often, both for staying in practice as well as for stress relief."

"Okukawa Minako?" Lilia asked, and carried on upon the man's nodding. "No wonder, your technique is astounding, even for such a seasoned danseur as yourself." Yuuri blushed heavily at the compliment, causing a small quirk of Lilia's lip in the biggest smile most of Yakov's skaters (who were now watching the two) had ever seen. "Training under such a well respected Prima certainly does wonders for your skating. How is Okukawa doing these days?"

"She's doing well, ma'am. Business is falling a bit low, working in a small town, but with the Ice Castle becoming more popular students will likely start coming back again."

"Hm, I suppose, for a man like yourself, being able to return the favor to your teacher like such must be a great reward. You mentioned that you do ballet as a stress relief, have you been able to do much in St. Petersburg?"

"No ma'am, I haven't been able to find a good studio that is both affordable and that I am comfortable enough in. I brought my pointe shoes, so I occasionally do so at home, but not much."

"Pointe shoes?" Lilia quirked her eyebrow. It's extremely uncommon for a danseur to be able to go en pointe, especially an adult such as Yuuri.

"Ah, Minako-sensei let me try them while I was still very young, and I enjoyed it enough that I insisted on working en pointe enough that I still have the ability."

"I'm impressed." Yuuri didn't think he could get any more red, praise from such a disciplined woman about his dancing was something he wasn't accustomed to; only from Minako and as she was a family friend as _well_ as his teacher, that was a different matter. He knew she'd never lie, but she was also more open to laying on compliments. Madam Baranovskaya, however, was a completely different matter. "If you'd like, you'd be perfectly welcome to practice in my studio, for free. There are open rooms for private lessons, but there is more than enough that you will surely be able to practice alone. Being such a respectful young man, and working under someone as strict as Okukawa, I have no qualms giving you your own set of keys as well. You may also be useful in helping Yuri in his own technique." The blond slightly sneered at that, but didn't yell out or fight it, which was surprising.

Yuuri was in shock, and his first reaction was to say that he couldn't accept the offer, that it was too great and he wasn't worth it. However, he also worked with Minako since childhood, he knew that Madam Baranovskaya would just rebut and he'd end up with the keys no matter what, so he simply accepted. "Thank you very much, ma'am. It's an honor to be given this opportunity."

Lilia gave another small smile in response (having noticed that her blond student wasn't fighting teaching from the Japanese danseur in the slightest, looking slightly happy at being able to have help from someone less strict than the Prima), much to her ex-husband's, and his students, shock. "Perfect, I will come by tomorrow with the keys. You are free to come anytime, _so long_ as I do not catch you overworking yourself." She had doubts he would, knowing and practically raising Viktor, but she also knew the look of someone who would work 'til he dropped.

"Understood, ma'am," Yuuri replied with a bow, "thank you once again." With that, he joined his fiance on the ice to practice their pair skate for the upcoming season.

Mila and Georgi (and Yuuri) were in shock that she not only held the Japanese man, whom she had hardly met, in such high esteem. Yuri and Viktor shared a brief look of understanding, the former with an eyebrow raise and the latter simply responding with a smirk. Yakov looked at his ex-wife with what could only be described as fond exasperation. This had happened twice before, with his two light haired students, and even _then_ she hadn't taken as fast a liking with the two (though they were also much more outspoken and ready to do whatever they wanted than Yuuri was). She was ready to adopt that boy, no matter if he was 24.

She would just have to fight Minako for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we get a moment of appreciation for Yakov and Lilia? Like, clearly they had a bit of a rough divorce, and they are both very hotheaded, but they saw Yuri, a student in need, and immediately trusted each other with the boy they both not-so-secretly adopted without argument. Also, you bet your ass Lilia and Yuuri's dynamic _will_ be coming back.


	11. Drop - Familial Team Russia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri drops after his first Grand Prix Final, the rest of the pack come to bring him out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: None  
> Ok I feel like there aren't enough sfw omegaverse fics? Like, I love ones where just someone needs help and their pack is really soft for them. _Anyways_ , I found out omega drop is a trope that exists and it finally gave me a plot for an idea I've had for awhile. This is an AU where Yuri doesn't go to the GPF his first year, instead accompanying Mila (since she makes the womens GPF) so he still meets Otabek and stuff, and Viktuuri, Otabek, and Sara live in St Petersburg. This takes place a year after canon.
> 
> Chat Names:  
> Katsuki Yuuri - KatSuckYee -> Echo  
> Sara Crispino - CrispyNo -> Scarlet Witch  
> Viktor Nikiforov - Narcissus  
> Georgi Popovich - Elsa  
> Mila Babicheva - Black Widow

Yuuri was becoming frantic in his searches. He'd been looking for Yurio for almost 15 minutes, and neither him nor the rest of the pack have found their youngest member yet. They were at the Grand Prix Banquet, celebrating the hard work and congratulating Yuri, Yuuri, Otabek, Phichit, JJ, and Mickey on coming so far, even if the first three were the only who medalled. Toasts were made and kisses were shared, but between the two the young blond had disappeared.

It was finally once Yuuri made it to the balcony that he found the young omega. He was glad the final had been in southern Italy, as it looked like the 16 year old hadn't moved from his current kneeling position in awhile. He called out the boy's name, but when he didn't move the Japanese man moved closer and saw the dull, clouded eyes on a blank, pale face. He recognized it immediately, having dealt with it plenty himself, and texted the pack's other omega.

**DM between _KatSuckYee_ and _CrispyNo_**

KatSuckYee: Yurio's dropped

CrispyNo: shit, do you know how long? 

KatSuckYee: Since he left, I'm guessing. I'll bring him back to his room 

CrispyNo: want me to bring everyone? 

KatSuckYee: No, I don't think they all have to leave, the party will be over soon. You and Otabek should probably come, though, and let Yakov know what's happening 

CrispyNo: roger 

Yuuri pocketed his phone, content that the other omegas as well as Yurio's mate would be enough for the time being. He called out a few more times, to no avail, and settled for putting the younger's arm over his shoulders as they left to go to the hotel. 

At the lobby of the building they saw Sara and Otabek, as promised, and Yuuri carefully handed the blond off to his mate (he didn't protest, but he didn't give any other reaction either, which wasn't a good sign). The group shuffled into a taxi, laying Yuri over all of their laps as his eyes closed, face still blank and showing he wasn't sleeping. 

"Is he okay?" The Kazakh asked, and that's when the older omegas realized he likely had never seen an omega drop; they'd be surprised if Yuri ever dropped in front of anyone but Nikolai and _maybe_ Yakov (maybe). 

"As long as he wakes up within the next half hour, yes. Otherwise we might need to call the hospital, in case he's in too much distress." 

They paid the taxi driver and shuffled out of the car and into the room Yuri and Otabek were sharing, the alpha laying the blond down on the bed, tucking into his chest, and the omegas piling on next to him as they built up the large pile of blankets into a nest. 

As soon as the nest was to Sara and Yuuri's satisfaction, Yuri's eyes fluttered open and he glanced around. 

"Do you know what happened?" The oldest omega asked, smoothing soft blond hair away as the girl behind him began to add pillows to the nest (where she got them from, none of them knew). Yuri nodded, turning his head to scent into wrist hand laying on his ear. 

Their pack was rather unique for many reasons, one of the main ones being the Head Alpha and Head Omega. More specifically, the fact that they weren't in a relationship. Only three omegas in their pack, Yuuri certainly took the most maternal role, falling into the head spot as soon as he joined. Viktor, while an alpha, certainly wasn't the head of the pack. That fell to Yakov, the most responsible and dominant of all of them (who also had previously been in an alpha-alpha relationship, and as such could handle 4 alphas under him, including his ex wife. Even with their divorce fresh, it was never a question whether she was part of the pack; Lilia and Yakov weren't fit as spouses but they made excellent packmates). 

Otabek tucked his head into the juncture between his mate's head and shoulder, scenting the younger as well and leading him to begin purring and rubbing into Sara's hand as well. The newest member of the pack, only starting once she entered a relationship with Mila (before which she and her brother had been sort of lone wolves), but well and quickly trusted. 

"Sorry," the boy rasped out, burrowing slightly into the crease between his mate and Head Omega. 

"Don't be sorry, Yuri. I know I dropped my first Grand Prix, and I wasn't placed under as much stress as you are now." The latter soothed. 

"Mine too, and I know at least one other omega in the women's division did as well. It's not uncommon, we just wish you told us. Get some sleep now, you must be tired." The boy did as the woman instructed, and once his breathing deepened Yuuri opened back his phone to check on the rest. 

**Vodka Bitches**

Narcissus: is yurio okay? we haven't heard from you guys in a while 

Elsa: We're getting into the taxi now 

Echo: He's fine, he just dropped from the stress 

Black Widow: dropped? 

Scarlet Witch: omega drop, when an omega gets too stressed or upset and basically falls into a cloudy, unresponsive haze. you've never heard of it? 

Elsa: The only omegas we know are you three, I'm sure Yuuri's done it in front of Viktor but we haven't seen you too stressed 

Narcissus: yurio probably hasn't dropped in front of anyone but his grandpa. he must be really overwhelmed 

Echo: He's risen back out of it, he's scented the three of us and is asleep now 

Black Widow: so omegas prefer other omegas when they drop? 

Scarlet Witch: yep, omegas in their pack usually, maybe their mates too if they have one 

Black Widow: ...how many times did Viktor have to get Phichit because Yuuri dropped? 

Narcissus: milaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa 

All three snorted at the grey-haired man's whining, and Yuuri turned off his phone to cuddle into his pup, Sara and Otabek following soon. 

They woke to more having joined their nest, Viktor and Mila next to their mates and Georgi near Otabek, likely invited by Yuri considering Viktor knew the drill with dealing with dropped omegas (he tried to get into Yuuri's nest without waiting for invitation the first time, and got bitten for his efforts) and wouldn't have allowed it otherwise. Yakov and Lilia were sitting at the other end of the bed, whispering lowly to each other as they talked about whatever. 

Yuuri just snuggled more into his mate, drifting back to sleep with a purr and contented smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all want I can make a seperate book for all of my omegaverse oneshots? All will be sfw and probably most revolving around pack dynamics because they are just too adorable. For clarification; Yakov, Lilia, Viktor, Mila, and Otabek are alphas with Yakov as head alpha, Yuuri, Yuri, and Sara are omegas, and Georgi is a beta.


	12. Break - Otayuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek knows Yuri has trauma, but he never knows what could set it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Fight, accidental violence, blood, panic attack, mentioned past child abuse  
> Hahahaha... oops.

"You need to take _breaks_ , Yuri!"

"I don't have _time_ to take a break, Otabek! Not if I'm going to do well!"

The conversation started simply, the Kazakh man suggesting that his longtime boyfriend take a break, after having a difficult time the night before. He knew the blond hated taking time off, somehow believing it made him weak and guaranteed a loss, but he also knew that after such a sleepless night, he ran a major risk of injuring himself.

"You'll be _fine_ , Yura!" He reverted back to the nickname, hoping to show how he cared, but the Russian wasn't having it.

" _FUCK OFF OTABEK!_ I'm practicing today and that's final!" Even among the scream, the ravenet saw the desperation in his boyfriends eyes, and put his glass of water down on the counter to try a different approach.

Turns out, the counter was further away than he thought and he didn't get the chance. Less than half of the base resting on the stable surface, it wobbled and fell. Otabek jumped away on instinct when he noticed his mistake, but Yuri stayed stalk still, eyes wide with fear, and glass shattered close enough that some of it hit his bare feet. At the noise, he fell down and clenched his hands to his ears, piercing his upper legs with more broken glass. 

Logically, Otabek knew that he had to take a gentle approach, but desperation caught up to his tongue first, and his next word was much louder than he'd meant. "Yura!" Wide, scared eyes turned toward him, unseeing, and the blond scrambled away and ran to the bathroom, ignoring the blood trailing down his legs, bare due to the boxers he'd gone to bed wearing. The door slammed, and the taller man cursed. He wanted desperately to go and comfort the petite boy, but he also knew that that wouldn't do any good, so he set to cleaning up the glass. Screams came from the room every few seconds, but he knew he had to ignore it, as much as it broke his heart.

He'd figured out early on that _something_ must've happened to Yuri to make him like this. Despite his words often suggesting otherwise, he never put a bottle of alcohol near his lips, and was overly cautious of people who were even a bit tipsy. Yelling normally didn't bother him (his coach was Yakov Feltsman, after all), but occasionally it was enough to send him into a panic. He often woke from nightmares, he never told Otabek what they were about and he never prodded, but it was likely that they weren't just scenarios created by his mind.

Once the glass and blood that ran along the tile was cleaned, the screaming was over and the man walked toward the bathroom, sitting outside the door and gentle voice calling out the name of the boy within. He was obviously still sobbing and hyperventilating, it could be heard through the door, but the words he was muttering were too muffled. "Yura?" He tried again. "May I come in?"

The lock clicked, so the brown-skinned man opened it to find the blond curled up between the bathtub and the toilet. His hands were buried in his hair, knees to his chest, and from here he could tell what was being muttered in rapid fire Russian. _"No mama, please papa, I'm sorry, it won't happen again, please don't, I'm sorry, sorry sorry sorry I'll buy you more..."_ on and on and on, while the Kazakh sat in front of the door so Yuri could see him fully.

"Hey Yura, it's just me, breathe, it's all right, it's Beka." Slowly, the hyperventilating stopped, and the pale boy slowly crawled over to his boyfriend, slumping into his shoulder.

"Sorry," he whispered, voice raspy from the yelling and screaming.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Yura, you don't have to talk about it either. Let's get you cleaned up, and then we can watch a movie, da?"

"But practice-"

"I already called and said we won't be coming in. You're in no condition to so much as step on the ice, and you don't need anymore stress. Please, Yura?"

"...ok." It was barely a whisper, more a breath than anything, but Otabek heard it just the same. "Can you take the glass out? When papa... and mama used to... and I... and..."

"Shh, it's okay Yura, of course I can help, you don't have to tell me anything you aren't ready for." He stood slowly and went to grab the first aid kit and a pair of tweezers. He sat back down and pushed Yuri up a bit from his hunched position so he could access all of the wounds. He carefully got all of the glass out, putting it in a container to throw away later and letting the smaller grip his biceps through the pain. He then used an antibacterial solution and rubbed it all over the cuts, and bandaging them. He needed one wrapped from his foot to halfway up his shin on both legs due to the concentration of them because of the initial fall, as well as his right hand, but other than that a few bandaids for the bigger ones worked just fine. Once he finished cleaning everything up, he kissed his boyfriend, who was leaning into his chest with his eyes closed, on the forehead. "I swear to you that was an accident. I would _never_ try to hurt you Yura, please forgive me."

"I know, Beka, there's nothing to forgive you for. I'm sorry too for freaking out."

"Love, it's clear to me that something happened to make you act like that. It was out of your control, there's no need to apologize."

"Thanks, Beka." They sat in the embrace for a few more minutes, before turquoise eyes popped back out from behind long, light eyelashes. "Can we watch the Aristocats?" It was Yuri's favorite Disney movie, possibly his favorite movie ever, and just the idea of watching it, snuggled up to his bigger boyfriend under blankets with some hot chocolate and Potya turned up the corners of his lips. 

Otabek leaned down to kiss Yuri again, on the nose this time, then the lips. "Of course kitten," he smiled.


	13. December Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're an international athlete, you get used to other cultures and religions. Especially when you're dating one of your competitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Insecurity, expected discrimination, food mention, brief Islamophobia, mention of disproving parents (implication of homophobia)  
> I've mentioned before that I like researching and exploring different religions, and I really took a dive into it with this one! However, important things come with writing religion. This doesn't take place in necessarily a set year, so some of the dates might not be 100% compatible with others, but I tried and got the same general idea. Also, it's very hard to research religion as often (if not always) articles have heavy bias, but I tried my very best, and if anything is offensive (unless it's specifically meant to be, such as in the aforementioned Islamophobia) please let me know immediately! I chose Yuuri!!! On Ice for this oneshot because they are from all different parts of the world and more likely to be practicing such different religions (plus, being figure skaters, it all takes place at either the very end of competition season or beginning of offseason; or at least we're saying it is, the only skating event I know much about is the Grand Prix so we're ignoring Worlds/Four Continents/Europeans). Lastly, I only have firsthand experience with Christianity and Wicca, and while the rest is well researched to the best of my ability constructive criticism is greatly appreciated (I do have experiences with the mental illnesses/disabilities/health issues though)! This is going to be very long by the way, we're going through like, 8 characters, and a bit idyllic in some parts.

Katsuki Yuuri

While Confucianism was more often practiced as a way of life in Japan and accompanied by a different faith such as Buddhism, Taoism, etc., Yuuri's religion was always very important to him. While not a cure-all, it helped with his anxiety to have a connectedness, a belief system, and it made him enjoy his surroundings in nature more which grounded him. December had been his favorite month for as long as he could remember, for a few reasons; the Grand Prix, the birthday of his biggest idol (though he was embarrassed to admit it, though once they actually met and got engaged it wasn't a big deal), and the New Year's celebrations.

Confucianism was very similar to other East Asian religions, and his father (who was, similar to him, very invested in his religion; his mother and sister were more passive but always supportive) had first picked up their tradition from his Shinto neighbor. He was happy to teach Viktor a few things, even if he didn't fully get it and probably wouldn't for awhile, he was always happy to help and encourage his fiance. So, on the 14 of December (late for him, though he had to get through the Grand Prix and then move into Viktor's Saint Petersburg apartment) he did a full clean of the house, including sprinkling salt around and washing it away with water to purify the area, and sprinkling water at the entrance again morning and night each day. There weren't any temples in Russia, but he made do, and used online communities.

He was forever grateful for his fiance, who accepted the new traditions with an open mind, asking questions and trying to help when he could (the first time he got out of bed to sprinkle water at the doorway, when Yuuri was exhausted after a day of practice and a panic attack, the Japanese man had cried and told Viktor over and over that he loved him). When he placed a small tree in in their window, he simply questioned what it was for and took care to make sure Makkachin didn't try to eat it. He helped make traditional dishes, and always assured the other man that he wasn't "extra" for his religious practices.

Viktor Nikiforov

While he himself had always been agnostic, he was overly happy to help his Yuuri with his own traditions. He'd moved to a new country for him, taken risks and going away from everything he knew to a new country, one that was less accepting than the States. He didn't personally take place in any of the more spiritual parts of the New Year (unless Yuuri was too tired to really do so himself and he knew it was okay), but that didn't stop him from doing other activities. His osechi-ryori were messier than his fiance's, and his mochitsuki deformed, and they both ended up covered in rice flour, but to them, it was more than worth it. He wasn't good enough at cooking to really help with the toshikoshi-soba, but he insisted on cutting the vegetables, and even if some pieces were too big Yuuri insisted it was the best he'd ever had, after his mom's (nobody was better than Katsuki Hiroko at cooking).

He didn't particularly _enjoy_ waking up early to see the sunrise the next morning, especially after all the sake he'd drank the night before, but he couldn't deny how beautiful it was, especially when it highlighted Yuuri's tan skin and deep brown eyes, and the kiss they shared that morning on his balcony might be the sweetest yet. The day was filled with the writing and sending of cards back to Japan, and calling not only the Katsukis and Co. but also their international friends.

The long ceremonies didn't distract Yuuri from his birthday either, and they'd had a sweet day walking through the streets with Yuri and Otabek, complete with a cake made by the youngest (it was frosted with the words "you're old" but that was just part of being friends with Yuri Plisetsky).

It was the best December Viktor could ever remember having.

Phichit Chulanont

Phichit was beyond ecstatic to have his boyfriend with him for Bodhi day, even if it was a bit stressful due to him having to leave for the Grand Prix Final early the next morning. Part of him expected Seung-gil to be a bit bitter over not having made the final event, and he was at first, but he got over it quickly. He was also glad that the Korean man was so comfortable sitting in the other's presence without talking, because for the first half of the day he didn't do much that wasn't in honor of Buddha.

The man didn't make a noise while he meditated, keeping his presence constant and doing his own thing, even among Phichit's prayers and chants. When he moved to study the Dharma a bit, Seung-gil simply sat next to him and read his book, letting the older use him as a headrest.

The rest of the day functioned much as normal, just with more meditation and the Thai man insisting on helping more often, for both him and others.

After Phichit's meditation and chanting taking place at sunset, they sat together and watched a movie, enjoying each other's presence for the few hours before he had to leave. He still feared when he'd eventually have to tell his parents that he had a boyfriend, an _atheist_ boyfriend at that, but now wasn't the time to worry. He had to make not only his family, but all of Thailand, proud.

Lee Seung-gil

Seung-gil's mind had always worked on logic as opposed to emotions and spiritual traditions, causing him to have trouble believing in any higher power, but he never saw some atheist's reasons for trying to tell _others_ what to believe. He had no problem with anyone practicing whatever they were comfortable with, whether personally or culturally, and the idea of trying to force other's to believe the same as him was just as logical as missionaries doing the same.

When Phichit had mentioned off-hand that he was Buddhist, before they were even dating, he'd done research to see what to expect. He'd looked up even more when they became boyfriends, and so when "Bodhi Day" was bolded in his calendar widget during the time he was house- (and hamster-) sitting for the other (he'd come early to spend some time with the Thai man and would be staying quite a bit after as well), he knew a bit of what to expect. 

He'd long gotten used to not interrupting or intruding when his boyfriend was praying, meditating, or chanting, and just because he'd be doing it more didn't change any of that. He brought his book out near noon, and when Phichit started reading the Dharma, he simply settled next to him and let them soak in each other's presence.

There was no reason to stop his boyfriend from doing something that made him so happy, especially when it didn't affect anyone else; it was completely illogical, and he wouldn't dream of it.

Yuri Plisetsky

Yuri was always quite excited to celebrate the eight Sabbats, but along with Samhein, Yule was probably his favorite. The winter season was his favorite for a variety of reasons, and the celebration of rebirth coming just after the skating season ended was too perfect to him. Plus, he got to celebrate this year with Otabek! Sure, that meant he had to double- and triple-check that all the meals he made (minus the offerings, of course) were halal, but for the boy who loved to cook it was a fun experiment.

Usually he slept long after the Kazakh got up for his sunrise prayer, but on the morning of the solstice he rose with him, moving to sit out on the balcony and watch the sky brighten. He'd brought a few materials with him, things for simple charms and spell bottles that were more for something to do with his hands. He was doing knots along a cord of rope when his boyfriend joined him, sitting in the swinging chair with him and huddling close to help the smaller against the chilly morning air.

Another reason Yuri loved the Sabbats was all the sensory input. He made some of his favorite meals, the smell of pine and berries and wood were extremely soothing, and the crackling fire often made him start to stim happily. He usually wore multiple charms and spell bottles, adding a pleasing weight to his neck and wrists. It also meant he stayed and sat to watch both the sunrise and sunset, the latter often making him stay out for hours into the night, meaning he was up for all of his boyfriend's daily prayers and they could cuddle together afterwords, enjoying their spiritual connections.

He'd just finished setting out his final offering of the day, to the Goddess, when arms around his waist picked him up and carried him over to the bed as he squealed. He was thrown on the plush surface, followed by the older man flopping next to him, face first. Yuri began tracing his muscles lightly with his finger, much to Otabek's amusement. He carefully turned to his right side toward his boyfriend, making sure Yuri knew he could keep tracing patterns, pale finger going down his shoulder and over his pec until it looped back up around his neck, the boy's entire body following and nuzzling into his tan skin.

Otabek Altin

When he first told his then-best friend that he was Muslim, he was honestly nervous. He'd gotten too many comments from foreigners about being a "terrorist" or what have you, even if never from the skaters, but the blond just scoffed a "Beka, I frankly don't give a fuck. Besides, part of Wicca is respecting other religions, there's no reason to be a wuss about praying or whatever in front of me."

Ramadan this year fell just after Christmas, while he was still staying with Yuri in Russia. There weren't any mosques in this area of Saint Petersburg, but Yuri knew where each corner of his apartment was from his rituals anyways, so it was easy enough to set up a space to pray there. He'd be back in Kazakhstan by the time Eid al-Fitr came around, so he needn't worry about that, and Yuri was more than happy to make sure Otabek's boundaries were respected ("my own religion seems quite odd to most, plus my autism makes that even worse. It's not a problem, Beka." They'd had a long conversation after that about not putting themselves down, and they were both doing better with each day), keeping his promiscuity in check. 

Otabek himself didn't swear, gossip, or complain much, so it took Yuri awhile to notice that it was Ramadan in the first place (he'd been meaning to look it up, but things had kept popping up and he didn't catch Otabek's earlier breakfasts and later dinners with their already screwed eating schedule). When he did notice, though, he made sure to stock up on higher-protein halal foods for his boyfriend to eat. Yuri wished that he could (to a degree) fast along with his boyfriend so he wasn't eating and drinking right in front of him when he couldn't, but with his low blood pressure and whatever the fuck else was wrong with his body, along with the fact that they shared a room in an apartment, it couldn't be avoided (though he did try to do it less than he normally did, as his health would allow).

They were early in their relationship and still getting used to each other's quirks, religion/culturally related or otherwise, but they loved each other and gladly learned.

Leo de la Iglesia

Like many Mexican American families, the de la Iglesias were fairly devout Christians. They certainly weren't strict or limiting to those who weren't, but they took their faith very seriously. Unlike many of his neighbors, Christmas to Leo was very much centered around Jesus instead of pointless celebration.

His boyfriend, Guang-Hong, was visiting this year, and trying to get used to American culture. He had shown Leo all about the winter solstice, and so he was returning the favor by teaching the boy how Christmas works. He explained the porcelain nativity scene that laid on their front table, and ended up lifting him onto his shoulders so he could place ornaments on the higher part of the tree (which he immediately regretted, when he then had to lift his sister to place the star). The two went shopping for gifts, both together and then the Chinese boy with Leo's mom to shop for him, and his dad taught him how to wrap them. 

Leo dug out some old books and told Guang Hong the story of Santa, and they both scoffed at some of the more... eurocentric parts of the book (Leo'd always had great fun pointing out how all the characters were white and digging out his markers to color their skin, and Guang Hong jumping in with the religious point of view as well gave them a good laugh, despite how cynical it all was).

Christmas morning was a bit awkward for the Chinese boy during the morning prayer, but after that they all had fun together and ended the night curled on the couch, watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas, Leo snuggled between his boyfriend and sister.

Ji Guang Hong

While religious, Guang Hong wasn't very serious about most Taoist traditions. His family didn't celebrate most holidays, and while they were very close to the way of life, that was also very common culturally in China. What he _was_ serious about was the Dongzhi Festival, the Winter Solstice in the States.

Even though he was spending the week (as well as the next) in the States with the de la Iglesias, that didn't mean he didn't celebrate, it was just different. His boyfriend's family was very kind, always open to him taking over their kitchen every once in awhile and even buying him ingredients for tangyuan from the local international supermarket (which they visited often to get authentic Mexican food). They also gave permission for him and Leo (though not Leo's sister) to drink rice wine that they'd found, much to his delight (it was always tradition for his entire family to take the first sip together, and thanks to FaceTime it didn't have to be interrupted by distance).

He wasn't expecting the kindness they gave him, especially when the next day Leo's older brother took the two to go so Guang Hong could pray to his ancestors. He didn't know how he could ever repay them, but he would try his damn hardest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are they all with their respective partners? Idk plot convenience. Constructive criticism is especially appreciated dealing with things like religion, so don't be afraid to correct me on Confucianist/Shinto, Buddhist, Islamic, or Chinese traditions!


	14. Intrusion - Viktuuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, Yuuri is surprised it's taken this long for his family to walk in while he's teaching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: None  
> I saw a comic like this once and the idea stuck with me! Also, I like to pretend none of my oneshots take place in the covid world so Yuuri is just on online teacher anyways.

"Good morning everybody." As the video call began, flashes of _"Hi Mr. Katsuki!" "Good morning Mr. Katsuki." "Morning!"_ and the like filled the message box as he started the class.

After retiring from skating four years ago, Yuuri had taken up teaching. At first, he taught ballet part time, helping Lilia with the skaters at Yakov's rink and eventually moving on to teaching novice classes as well. However, about a year in he found himself restless, too used to the constant working and training, and he eventually began teaching at an online school. He was able to teach international students, even while he stayed in Russia, though he taught in English. When he and Viktor had moved out of the latter's St. Petersburg apartment and into a small house, an office was one of the first things they set up, along with a bedroom for Yuri (even as a young adult now, he was still a child in the men's eyes and with his grandpa getting too old to offer "proper" support, he started living with the two full time). His students addressed him as Mr. Katsuki for ease, even though his surname was technically Katsuki-Nikiforov, and it was nice that, even when a student who joined knew him as a figure skating legend, married to _another_ figure skating legend (which didn't happen often, but enough), it didn't take long before they just saw him as their sweet, dorky teacher who just so _happened_ to be a retired professional athlete.

"Yesterday we finished with our last unit, so I've scheduled some time aside to talk about world culture!" His eye caught on a _"what does world culture have to do with literature?"_ and he laughed a bit. "Well, Nebril, nothing. But, being an international school, we have opportunities that most others don't, and I figured being able to share and learn about each other's ways of life is a lot more interesting than drawing out another week of Shakespeare, yeah?" Agreements filled the message box, and he snorted a bit at some of the... creative, things his high schoolers had to say about the famous author. "I can start, set a bit of a guideline for what to share. You can type it or unmute and say it, whichever you choose. My name is Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, though where I'm from we do surnames first, so Katsuki-Nikiforov Yuuri. I was born and spent most of my life in a small Japanese town called Hasetsu, with-"

"Oi, piggie, have you seen... damn." At that moment, the younger Yuri burst through the door. He was wearing leggings and a shirt that, as Yuuri could tell, definitely belonged to Otabek, long hair in a loose braid and staring at the computer setup like a deer in headlights. "I thought you were just grading, sorry."

"It's fine, language though, what were you looking for?"

"I need the- tell your students to stop hitting on me." Sure enough, comments of _"he's so pretty!" "Who's the cute guy that just walked in?"_ were pouring down the screen, making the smaller man glare at it. "I'm taken, and you're like, 16."

"Tell that to _you_ at 16."

"Shut up, Katsudon."

"Don't tell your father to shut up!" Another voice rang out from the hallway, soon followed by a casually dressed Viktor entering the room. "Oh, you're teaching, sorry."

"You're not my dads!"

"It's fine, Vitya. Well, guys, looks like we're diving into culture headfirst. This is my husband, Viktor, and this is also Yuri, he's-"

"Our son!"

"I am _not_ your son, old man!"

"Speaking of, where is our _actual_ son?"

"'Ri! 'Ri, come look!" A toddler ran into the room, one arm holding onto a stuffed sushi roll (courtesy of Mari) while pudgy fingers reached out for the younger blond.

"Alright, I'm coming, I'm coming," he said, being dragged out of the room. Not a second later, the young child burst back in, ran to his daddy and tugged his hand, asking for a kiss. The man happily complied, leaning down and receiving a wet kiss to the cheek, which he returned to the boy's forehead. 

"Alright, Aki, go show Yuri what you wanted to show him."

"Otay daddy!" Once again speeding like a bullet, Aki nearly tripped in the doorway, only saved from hitting his head by his papa's quick reflexes, running back to Yuri.

"And _that_ was my son Aki, he's 18 months old. Now that you have a quick run through of how _chaotic_ my house can be, let's continue. Oh, do you need something, Vitya?" Noticing his husband was still there, he turned around.

"Oh, no, I just like watching you teach. I should probably make sure nothing gets broken though." In three strides, the silver haired man was next to his husband, he leaned down to kiss his forehead (receiving _"aww"_ s from the kids), waved bye to the camera, and left, closing the door behind him.

Yuuri stared back at it a moment, hearing faint noises of Aki and Yuri's laughter, and then turned back to his screen. "Where were we? Oh, I was raised in Confucianism, and grew up with my parents and sister, and you've already met the people I live with now. Well, besides Yuri's cat Potya and our dog Měn- hush up, Chatchada, my friend named him. So, Ariela, want to go next?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Měn is Thai for stinky (at least according to Google Translate I don't speak Thai) because you can't tell me Phichit wouldn't be a petty little shit. I imagine the Katsuki-Nikiforov's speak a weird mix of English, Japanese, and Russian at home so honestly it was a miracle that Yuri and Viktor stayed in English.


End file.
